


Candle Lights

by StarsAndSkies (LittleMissWrath)



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, First Kiss, Mild Sexual Content, Original Character(s), Sexual Tension, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissWrath/pseuds/StarsAndSkies
Summary: Fate, she thought. Such a short, but powerful word. She wasn’t a devoted believer herself, neither in religion nor in soulmates, at least not as her parents expected, as they would’ve wanted. She knew the Scriptures though, but they meant nothing to her, neither more nor less than the possibility of finding her special one despite the mark etched on her left wrist.





	Candle Lights

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying to write for Far Cry 5, so don't be too hard on me.
> 
> Based on the prompt: "All my choices lead me to you" I got on Tumblr. 
> 
> English is not my native language, so you'll probably find some grammatical mistakes and typos. I'm sorry! I did my best!

“All my choices lead me to you,” Rook whispered as she stepped into the small church, closing the torn door behind her. It doesn’t matter that Joseph couldn’t hear a word; her soul felt lighter as soon as she admitted how tired she was of fighting and avoiding him, of running away from what it seemed, no matter how much she denied it, her _fate_.

Fate, she thought. Such a short, but powerful word. She wasn’t a devoted believer herself, neither in religion nor in soulmates, at least not as her parents expected, as they would’ve wanted. She knew the Scriptures though, but they meant nothing to her, neither more nor less than the possibility of finding her special one despite the mark etched on her left wrist. Until she met Joseph Seed and his hands grazed her skin that fateful night months ago. Since then, everything had revolved around him in such a way that all her beliefs had collapsed one by one; that whatever she did, the Father was the beginning, but also the end of everything.

“Joseph,” Rook mumbled his name, trying to catch his attention as she sauntered down the dimly illuminated aisle.

Her breath hitched when he lifted his gaze from his book, open on the pulpit, to acknowledge her presence for the first time since she had entered the church. Joseph’s face showed no emotion, though, and for a tiny moment, running away and hiding in an isolated cabin crossed her mind. If she got to be fast enough, she could reach the shore before they started chasing her. But no. There was no going back; not since she had had the nerve to show up alone and unarmed at the heart of Eden’s Gate itself.

The candles flickered as she stepped closer, standing next to the first pew. It hadn’t been so long since she had been there, in the same spot in front of him, deciding, without even knowing it, the fate of the County. Maybe things would have been different, but it didn’t matter anymore. If they meant to be each other, as her soul claimed, the outcome would have been the same. The difference was in how many people she had to kill, how many people had to die for her to swallow her pride and insecurities and accept him; accept them as part of each other.

Rook observed him under the warm light of the candles and the pale moon that came in through the Eden’s Gate cross-shaped window. She analyzed the man, not the preacher neither the Father, not only hidden behind his yellow tinted aviators but also behind his iron-clad convictions and beliefs. Her eyes roamed his naked torso, and she gasped at the sight of the sins carved on his skin, cheeks burning with embarrassment as John’s words— _even the Father knows deeply of sin_ —echoed through her mind. Her fingers twitched with the need to get closer and touch him; to trace, kiss and make hers, one by one, those scars and tattoos that belonged to him as much as his flesh and soul, as much as herself.

“Father,” she murmured, addressing him by his title for the first time. It felt natural, somehow intimate on her lips, so familiar she had to fight the urge to pronounce it again. Instead, she repeated, “all my choices lead me to you.” She clenched her fists on either side of her body, digging her nails into her palms, painfully aware of how pathetic, how desperate she sounded in front of the man who had turned her life upside down. The man she was supposed to fear, not long for. “I figured it was time to stop running away from this, from us and… face reality, whatever it may be,” she added, rubbing the bandage that covered her left wrist.

Joseph‘s eyes widened at her words, then followed the motion of her hand, replicating it on his own wrist before meeting her gaze again. His lack of response was unnerving, and Rook chewed the inside of her cheek to ease the anxiety that plagued her soul. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she rested her hand on the back of the pew and tried again, “I’m tired, Joseph; tired of this nonsense, of being a tool in the hands of others... of fighting against this.” Rook pointed to her left arm, then nodded towards him. “Against you.”

His eyebrows arched, fingers lazily toying with the beads of the rosary wrapped around his left hand. Then he closed his book, and gripping either side of the pulpit he spoke at last, “what do you want, then?” The gentle cadence of his voice made her heart flutter, and despite being as quiet as always, it didn’t go unnoticed for her the urgency hidden behind his velvety tone.

Rook hesitated; the words she so longed to say stuck in her throat as her white-knuckled grip on the back of the pew tightened, tears moistening her eyes. She scratched the bandage again, taking a deep breath before replying, “I’m here because I want to know you. I need to understand what is all this that pulls me so hard towards you.”

“So you do _believe_ ,” he pointed out, the corners of his lips twitching up briefly.

“I—I don’t know... yet.” And it wasn’t a lie. “It may sound ridiculous, but that’s just—that’s what I feel.”

The wooden floor crackled as Joseph stepped down the podium and approached her, the sound of his heavy footsteps breaking the peaceful atmosphere inside the little church.

“It’s not stupid at all, Joy.” Joseph placed his hands on her shoulders and rested his forehead on hers; thumbs tracing soothing circles over her collarbone as he added, “you can’t even imagine how much I prayed for this moment to come. And I was terrified too, but the Lord is gracious and merciful, my child, and I knew he would listen to my pleas. I knew he would bring you to me.”

His touch, that was something she wasn’t ready for; neither to hear her name uttered with such tenderness and affection she couldn’t help but let out a delighted moan. He was so close; too close that his scent filled her lungs with every breath she took. That she could almost guess the taste of his lips without even kissing him, the feel of his skin without even touching him. That she knew, with no doubt, how well they would fit together because she was made for him and he, for her.

“I think it’s not that deep,” she clarified, though, before Joseph continued rambling on about God's role in their newly accepted bound.

"And yet, here you are.” He grinned and grasped her chin, tilting her head upwards as he put his hand on her chest. “You came to me against all the odds, not because of these marks, but because deep inside your soul you know you still have faith.”

“No, I don’t have—anyway, It’s complicated. And even if you were right, and I stayed and followed you—and I’m willing to do it, don’t get me wrong—I could never be just one more of your flock. Not like you probably expect, at least.”

They looked at each other for a while, Joseph frowning, his eyes roaming her face. Then he leaned closer, so his mouth was only a few inches from her cheek when he spoke, “I don’t expect your blind devotion, Joy. Not… from you.”

And somewhat, she believed him.

“I saw you, in my visions; by my side, as my equal and companion…” Joseph mumbled, his voice barely a whisper tickling her skin. “Mine. As well as I was yours; in body and soul.” He held her face between his palms, thumbs gently caressing her flushed cheeks as he kissed her forehead. And as if he saw through her fears and concerns, he continued, “I’ll never ask you for more than what you’re willing to give me. And if that’s your wish, you’re free to go.”

“I appreciate it, but I already told you; I need to understand. I need to know.” She leaned into his touch, heart hammering at her ribcage as she tried to find the right way to bare her soul to him. “I… may need you too, Joseph, but that’s something I still have to find out.” Her fingers ghosted over the ink on his flesh, a faint blush spreading across his chest. “So… I’ll stay. I do want to stay. It’s worth trying, isn’t it?”

“I’d like it very much,” he smirked at her, however, she noticed a shadow of doubt clouding his blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

Rook raised her right hand to his face, and running her fingers through his rough beard, she murmured, “entreat me not to leave you, or to turn back from following after you. For wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you lodge, I will lodge.” She hesitated, not trusting her quivering voice, struggling to keep it together as she cupped Joseph’s cheeks in her palms. Their eyes met, and after clearing her throat, she found the courage to continue, “your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried.”

Words slipped out of her mouth as flowing water, and even though she meant every single one, she couldn’t help wanting the earth to open and swallow her whole.

Joseph stared at her in awe, somewhat shaken and bemused, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gaped at her, trying to speak, but no sound came out of his mouth. Instead, he shook his head and wrapped an arm around her waist, grabbing the back of her neck with his right hand, fingers tangled into her loose hair. His grip was soft but firm, even possessive; his palm resting on the small of her back held her pressed against him as his gaze dropped to her half-parted lips.

A comfortable silence fell between them, and Rook explored his face, tracing the outline of his cheekbones with her fingertips, her eyes never leaving his. Pulse racing in her ears, she dared to speak at last, “was that enough for you, _Father_?”

Joseph’s grip tightened in response, so much that his fingers dug into her flesh even through the rough fabric of her flannel.

“It was, _my Joy_ ,” he replied, letting her name linger on his tongue as if he took special pleasure in listening to himself pronouncing those three letters. His voice, though not louder than a murmur, rumbled through his chest. The eagerness in his tone sent a chill down her spine, causing her body to shudder against him. After letting go of her hair, Joseph slid his hand from her nape to the front of her neck, then grabbed her chin again. “I’d like to kiss you, Joy. May I?”

“Please.” The lump in her throat besides the anticipation killing her like never before prevented Rook from saying anything else, so she nodded, hoping it was enough response for him.

Joseph gave her a knowing smile as he tilted his head to one side, the gap between them so tiny that she found herself gazing at his mouth, waiting for him to make the next move. And then, their lips crashed together, and nothing else mattered anymore; the world stopped spinning, and there was no Father nor Deputy, the reality that had brought her there fading away at the same pace as her heart pounding in her chest.

Her arms curled around his neck for balance, eyelids fluttering shut as he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp in surprise. His insistent tongue slid into her mouth, and she welcomed him by letting out an unexpected but needy groan that caused her cheeks to burn with shame as a familiar heat pooled between her thighs.

Joseph deepened the kiss in response, clinging so tightly to her shirt she even feared for the integrity of the fabric. Their teeth clicked, and he pulled away, muttering a barely audible apology as he nipped along her jaw, his index finger trailing down her neckline. He gave her no rest though, and before she could even catch her breath, he attacked her lips again, exploring her mouth with such emphasis and devotion that her legs trembled, her whole body surrendering to his embrace.

Rook melted into his bruising kiss, sucking and biting, swirling her tongue around his as her nails raked over his shoulders, tearing the most delicious noises from the back of his throat. And even though his belt buckle wasn’t the only hard thing pressed against her belly, she could tell that he was holding back. After all, Joseph Seed kissed with the same overwhelming enthusiasm and restrained passion as he preached; like a desperate man trying to quench his thirst by drinking directly from her lips, worshipping her, in his own way, more than anything or anyone.

The door cracked open, and Joseph broke the kiss with an annoyed sigh but made no move to let her go. She tried to turn around, though, worried about how helpless she was with her back to the entrance, but his arms tensed around her frame to hold her tighter against him.

Anyway, she trusted Joseph—she had trusted him by betting all or nothing before she had even set foot in the church, so she rested her head on his chest, letting herself be carried away by his reassuring embrace; Joseph would handle it. Even so, Rook looked over her shoulder, curious to find out who had broken into the church in that way.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she grunted at the sight of a Peggy standing under the doorway, eyes wide open, gaping at them, concern and confusion written all over his bearded face.

All hopes of going unnoticed vanished as soon as the man reached for his gun, but before he could even get it out of the holster, Joseph spoke, “everything’s just fine here, brother Robert. You won’t need that. It’s okay, _I’m okay_.”

And there he was; the stoic Father again. One moment he was fucking her mouth with his tongue as if it were no tomorrow, and the next he kept his composure in front of that man as if they had been just busy praying, even though she still could feel him hard inside his pants.

“But Father, the De—Deputy—,” the Peggy babbled, his hand still hovering above his holstered pistol.

Joseph pulled away from her after giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, then walked down the aisle with outstretched arms. He stood in front of the Peggy for a moment, and after placing his hands on his shoulders, he said, “Robert, listen to me.” Even from her position, Rook could see the tension leaving the man’s body under Joseph’s touch, the anxiety in his eyes replaced by a look of pure devotion. Then, Joseph spoke again, “the Deputy is with us now.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you've got here... thank you for reading! ♥ You can also find me on Tumblr as [StarsAndSkies](https://starsandskies.tumblr.com/).


End file.
